Something of an End
by sapereaude13
Summary: “I can't be what you want, and for that I really am sorry.” Balthier/Ashe, postgame.


The doctor and Fran chatted quietly, and she didn't care to hear too many of the details. She overheard anyhow. Broken leg, ankle of the other leg, ribs...it had been a horrific fall, and she was glad to have not witnessed it. The sun would rise in a few hours, and she was due for a morning meeting with her minister of agriculture. Of course, the state of aqueducts and hydroponics meant little when he could have gotten himself killed. If Fran hadn't taken their speeder directly to her palace balcony, he very well may have been dead when they came back.

The physician moved away from the Viera and approached her with a deferential nod. "Majesty."

"How is he?"

The man recounted the same laundry list of injuries he'd just gotten through explaining to Fran, but she could tell he was using more delicate language because of her station. She could only hope the man wouldn't tell anyone else about what had happened. Then again, Ashe made sure that she retained staff that could keep secrets. "He won't be able to leave the city for weeks though, Highness. Are you planning to prosecute?"

"That is no concern of yours. Only his health," she muttered harshly.

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"You will treat her the same as you would treat me," she explained calmly, nodding in Fran's direction. "And he is to receive the same attention you would give me in a similar situation."

"I highly doubt Your Highness would be so reckless," the physician joked, and she scowled.

"That is all. Good night, Doctor Seras." The doctor bowed humbly and departed the simple dwelling, leaving her alone in the room with Fran. The Viera approached her quietly, her ruby eyes showing more emotion than usual.

"He does not deserve such kindness, but I could think of no place else to turn," Fran said quietly. The Viera was right. The last person who deserved such dedicated medical care was Balthier, but Ashe was more sentimental than she liked to be where he was concerned.

She shook her head. "You were right to come to me. Seras is a pain, but he won't defy me. But as soon as Balthier can move, get on the Strahl and leave."

"Of course." The silence between the two women went on for some time. It had been months since Ashe had seen Fran or her partner, and even that had been by chance. The Strahl had been departing the aerodrome as she returned from an excursion to Rozarria. In the years since their miraculous survival, the pair had been kind enough to limit their thieving to places outside of Dalmasca. But of late, times had apparently been tougher, and the elite of Rabanastre were now prey to pirating. Fran had taken a great risk in going directly to her that evening.

"You know the love I have for both of you," Ashe said cautiously, but Fran was always astute and could see through her. "But I will not risk what I have risked tonight for you again." The slightest change in Fran's countenance indicated that she knew Ashe was not really speaking about her.

"I am sorry, Your Majesty," Fran offered. The Viera turned away and moved to the door of the dwelling where she and Balthier would remain until he recovered. "The doctor suggested some herbal remedies and potions to help quicken his recovery. Are there any stands still open at this hour?"

Ashe knew that none were open, but Fran was giving her an excuse. "I'm not sure, but you might wish to check the southern half of the bazaar. Some keep late hours."

Fran nodded, departing with swift footsteps. Ashe exhaled slowly, not really wishing to go past the closed door in the corner of the room. She'd done all in her power to ensure he was safe and given the ability to recover. What more did she owe him? With the spate of robberies amongst her nobles, she had him right where she wanted him. A perfect scapegoat to offer the wealthy of Rabanastre. Balthier Bunansa, the great sky pirate, caught in the act. Caught after falling from a window with a sack full of loot...his death only prevented by a serendipitously placed flower bed. It was almost funny that he'd bee so careless.

She pushed herself forward, turning the doorknob and entering the tiny room off the main entryway. He was in sorry shape, bandaged and bruised nearly from head to toe. He was lucky to have not broken his neck. Perhaps he was truly as immortal as he always claimed. Ashe settled herself in a hard and uncushioned chair at his bedside. His face looked relatively peaceful all things considered, and she supposed that the doctor had given him more painkillers than a woman in childbirth.

His characteristic fine clothes were bloodied and haphazardly dumped in the corner, and she tried to tear her eyes away from where the bandaging ended and the blanket covering his lower extremities began. It was strange to see flesh she had known so purpled and damaged, and she almost wanted to run off and let him heal without even speaking to him. But he seemed to sense that someone had come in, and he groaned.

"Come to gloat?"

She wasn't entirely surprised that he knew it was her without having to open his eyes. "Gloat? Mmm...no. That's not it, exactly."

He finally opened his eyes and smirked up at her. "Tease then? That's fair enough."

Ashe wished to intertwine her fingers with his, but he didn't deserve it and so she refrained. "Whatever you thought to take from the Comte d'Allemayne has been returned without incident. Fran put it all back while you were getting patched up."

Balthier frowned. "Solid mythril candlesticks, Ashe."

She wanted to slap him, but he was already hurt and frail enough. "You take from the Comte d'Allemayne, you take from me."

"I don't see it that way."

"The Marchioness of Ryls. The Duke of Servace? You think I am too busy to have aerodrome records checked? You're arrogant enough to moor your ship in my capital and think I will turn a blind eye?"

"I'd hoped," he responded airily, and she could only hope his candid responses were due to the painkillers.

"I could have you hanged even in your swaddling and plaster!"

He smiled at her. "Don't suppose an I love you would help my situation?"

"You don't love me," she spat at him. "You never have."

He tried to shift on the hard mattress and was only rewarded with a fresh surge of pain. She could see it in his face, and she almost felt bad for him, even with their history. "Think what you like," he replied with a grimace. "I do care for you."

"You have a strange way of showing it," she answered sadly. Their lives were too disparate, and one plea to settle too many had driven him away from her for this extended period. It was strange to sit and exchange pleasantries with him when he'd left her a sad, blubbering mess a year earlier. "I won't have you arrested, although I'm well within my rights."

"And I'm eternally grateful." He coughed, moaning again. When he finally settled, he looked rather solemn, even for him. "How many times have I said that to you?"

"What?"

"That I'm grateful for the things you do for me?" She was almost shocked by the look of remorse coloring his handsome, but bruised features.

"I..." She paused, growing upset as old wounds reopened, becoming as fresh as the ones plaguing Balthier at present. "I don't know."

"That's a nice way to admit that I've never thanked you."

She took his hand finally, realizing how close she'd come to losing him forever. Much as he'd hurt her, she'd prefer an Ivalice with him roaming it than one without. "I don't suppose you ever have, no."

The trial she'd attended as a witness to his character, vouching for him in Rozarria...in Archadia. The times she had in fact turned a blind eye to his underhanded dealings. The number of times he'd vowed that he'd give up "the life" in favor of the mercantile trade or to pilot for the East Ivalice Company and hadn't.

He was devastated. "I've never thanked you."

She stopped him with a squeeze of his hand. "Don't. You're high as a purvama from whatever he gave you. You won't remember any of this in the morning, so don't even bother."

"Why do you let me be such a beast to you?" he inquired, and she could see some honesty under the painkiller cloudiness.

"Because you saved my country. And much as you like to steal from it now, I can't forget what you've done for me," she lied, withdrawing her hand from his.

He frowned, cutting through her excuses. "I can't be what you want, and for that I really am sorry."

After all these months, he finally said the words that neither had been willing to utter before. No amount of painkillers could dilute the truth in them. He would always be a pirate falling out of windows, and she would always be the Queen. But she couldn't always be the Queen cleaning up his mess. And with the look he gave her then, she realized that she had said the last bit out loud.

"I didn't mean that," she stumbled out quickly, but he rolled his eyes, the one movement he could do without incurring any more pain.

"You did. And you're right. I've gone on too long benefiting from your kindness and doing nothing to return it." He looked down at the sorry state of his person and sighed. "I won't give up thieving. It would be like asking you to give up rule to live as a hermit on Bur-Omisace. But I'm through with Dalmasca, I swear it."

She looked down in her lap, anything to avoid the strange earnestness in his eyes. "You could still visit Rabanastre. Just...not for theft."

"Ashe, you deserve far more than that."

She rubbed her eyes, sniffing slightly at his words. "Maybe you should fall out of windows more often if it means you'll be honest with me."

He chuckled quietly. "Come here, you won't break anything that's not already mangled."

There was enough room on the side of him for her to crawl in next to him. She did her best to avoid his bandaged ribs and pressed a shaky kiss to his cheek. "I can't seem to rid myself of you."

"And I seem to be stealing from grand houses closer and closer to yours. I wonder why that is?"

She buried her face in his neck and stifled a sob. "Why did this happen? It's never ever going to work the way we wish it to."

"Could have told you that years ago."

She let her fingers trace the small bandage above his left eye. "You do love me."

"I just have a strange way of showing it," he mumbled. She couldn't hold back and let her tears fall this time. He could only tilt his head slightly to lean against hers, but he whispered little nonsense words to her until she settled down.

She kissed him as gently as she could and rose from the bed again when she heard the door open and Fran reenter, making as much noise as possible to alert them to her presence. Ashe looked down at him and didn't want to leave.

"Go," he told her. "Whatever he gave me is starting to wear off already, and I'm going to be positively terrible to Fran."

"I could come visit, ensure that you're healing properly."

"You have your doctor for that," he reminded her, trying to sever things again as gently as possible, begging her to let him go.

She wrung her hands for lack of a better thing to do with them. "Will I ever..."

There was no way she could finish asking her query, and he looked at her sadly. "Marry a prince worthy of you."

"You know that's not what I want," she informed him.

"Me neither," he admitted. Balthier moved again, wincing in pain as he turned to look away from her. "Go on, get out of here. You can't be missing for that long. That much I've learned."

She was growing weary of saying goodbye to him, always wondering if it was the last time. "You'll be receiving better medical care than anyone in Ivalice. Don't get too comfortable here," she tried to joke, but her heart wasn't fully in it.

"Ashe," he chided her, and she realized that he felt just as profoundly upset about their parting as she did. Would another year go by this time? There was little way to know.

Against her better judgment, she leaned down and kissed him once more, holding his face between her hands. For all that he was telling her to move on, he returned her kiss as enthusiastically as a man in his state could. She broke away, breathing heavily against his lips. "Goodbye."

She pulled away, not bothering to hide her tear-streaked face from Fran as she departed, not knowing if she would ever see either of them again.


End file.
